ɪ ᴊᴜsᴛ sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ - 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞

𝐂𝐇𝐏 𝟑𝟑 - My Compass

Y/N's POV

The boy's room's aren't very different from the girls, except maybe the position of them and maybe how it was further away from the black lake, it is a little hotter in his room. More stuffy. It doesn't really matter all that much, though I don't think Mattheo cares either. He's not doing much study anyway, sitting on the bed without a care in the world; I can feel his eyes on the back of my head. At least he has a book with him, but I doubt that the book has his attention with Toby lounging in his lap. Mattheo's hand running over his little orange head, purring at the touch.

I have yet to figure out how on earth he made that picky cat like him so much, it's a miracle really; and I can't help but feel a little jealous.

"Are you having fun there?" I didn't turn my head around to look at him as I spoke, though I can feel the smirk radiating off his face; I developed that little trick from him tailing me around like some lost puppy everyday.

"A lot actually, you're very entertaining." He replies, I'm not surprised by that answer.

"I think your studies deserve more attention-"

Before I could even finish my sentence, the door came crashing open making me jump in my skin along with Toby who jumped out of Mattheo's lap, the bang being entirely too loud. That prick scared my cat. Mattheo's head turns toward the door as Theodore was standing inside the doorway with a sulky look on his face; god does he know how to not make himself the center of attention.

"How about a fucking knock instead of breaking my door down." I heard Mattheo mutter under his breath before getting up and crossing his arms over his chest and jutting his hip out. My eyes making contact with Theodore as he scowls at me, what a great piece of work. Mattheo speaks up again, "Go away, I'm busy."

As if on cue, Theodore's ugly mouth spits out words in my direction.

"Get out, this conversation doesn't concern you." My eyebrows raise as my head tilts, who the fuck does he think he is? He's always like this; trying to order me around like this is the 1700's? I think the fuck not.

"Yeah no." I spit back, my eyes narrowing.

Mattheo looked to be having none of it as he rolls his eyes and takes Theodore by the collar, dragging him outside the room and shutting the door. The room instils in silence as I'm left alone in the room, pages scattered at my knees and Toby jumping off the bed to rub his face against my side. It's an empty silence, I wonder how Mattheo manages in a room by himself.

I look back down at the papers and sigh, back to studying by myself then. Its so boring that way, at least with another person around it wasn't so harrowing. In a way, it makes me more productive, the odd chatter helping me concentrate. Mattheo is good at odd chatter. He's also a good listener, but never mind that.

My hand glides against the paper in a slow manner, dragging the tip of the feather over the lines in cursive; god I hate cursive. At least it looks good. The work isn't hard but it always drags no matter how much I like charms; the spell casting part is always my favourite.

As the minutes tick by, the boredom settles into my head. I drop the parchment with a huff and put my feather into the ink bottle. This sucks, are they still taking? My head turns toward the shut door as curiosity fills my head, I wonder what they are talking about. I could go find out; I'm not above eavesdropping. It couldn't hurt.

I slowly stand from my spot on the wooden floor, walking over to the door with light steps; ear pressing to the wood with my hands close by my head. I close my eyes a little to concentrate, they must be at least in the middle of the conversation. It's hard to hear what they're saying, so I scrunch my eyes closed to strain my ears. Most of it's mumbling, but finally I can pick up Mattheo's voice. Its a bit hushed, but he sounds mad.